


The Walls Have Secrets

by big_brother_wrath



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Ghosts, High School AU, M/M, Vanderbilt Mansion, dumbwaiters, shyanexchange2k18, shyanwritingevents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15877356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_brother_wrath/pseuds/big_brother_wrath
Summary: Ryan just wants to prove to Paranormal Club skeptic Shane that ghosts do exist. However, after a warning from the other side, they both wind up trapped in a dumbwaiter and more than one secret is spilled. In the Vanderbilt Mansion, the walls have secrets.





	The Walls Have Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloodyloveletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodyloveletters/gifts).



The autumn wind howls between trees as Ryan, armed to the teeth with absolutely legitimate paranormal investigation equipment, approaches the intimidating wrought-iron gates of the supposedly haunted Vanderbilt Mansion. He eyes the intimidatingly black posts standing between him and the mansion, sizing up how tall they were and if he could climb them or need to find another way onto the grounds. One way or another, he was going to be investigating this abandoned mansion and possibly even helping some poor lost souls move on with their afterlives. The Paranormal Club at his high school will finally be taken seriously and who knows, maybe Ryan will be able to convince his other clubmates to actually come on investigations.

Ryan’s concentration is ruined when a deep chuckle sounds off behind him and he turns, glaring at his investigation partner. Shane stands behind him with only a flashlight and smug grin, obviously here to gloat if Ryan finds no evidence of activity or immediately discredit any evidence Ryan does find. He’s already explained that spirits need a huge amount of energy to even use any of their equipment and if Shane could wipe that stupid smile off his face, he’d really appreciate it. No matter how many times Ryan tries to reason with the skeptic, Shane always brushes him off and mocks his arguments. 

“Sorry, sorry, can’t help it. You’re doing it again,” Shane explains, holding his pocketed hands in surrender. “You looked like you were monologuing again in your head.” 

“I-I was not! I’m just trying to see if I can climb the gate,” Ryan explains, shining his flashlight on said offending gate to further his point. Shane only scoffs and joins Ryan’s side, also sizing up the gate. They stand there in a tense silence before Ryan huffs, turning off his light. The chain and padlock on the front say they won’t be getting in through this way, and none of them wanted to be caught breaking and entering so bolt cutters were out of the question. He tuts once before turning to start scouring the mansion perimeter when Shane clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, it’s too tall for  _ you _ to climb, but I’d be able to get over his no problem,” he says and Ryan rolls his eyes, giving Shane another look. 

“Yeah? And what’d you do then? Climb back over to make your point?” he asks, a grin tugging at his lips. No matter how annoying Shane can be, the junior always found a way to make him smile. The plus side of having such a skeptic by his side was that Ryan’s nerves were usually kept at a low whenever Shane was around to shout threats at demons and ghosts.

“Exactly.” Shane nods, seeming satisfied before breaking into a laugh. “No, I’m kidding. C’mere Bergara, I’ll get you over the fence.” The skeptic pulls his hands out of his pockets and rubs them together, staring at the top of the fence like it were some goal. 

“What’re you talking about, Shane? What, do you have a ladder shoved up your a--” Ryan’s joke is rudely interrupted when Shane casually picks him up by his waist, once again showing off his strength as he carelessly tosses Ryan up against the fence, the poor sophomore screaming as he grabs onto the iron and scrambles up and over the pikes. Once he lands on his hands and knees, Ryan gives himself a pat down before standing, glaring at the smiling Shane through the fence.

“Fuck you, Madej. Just ‘cause I’m a beanpole now doesn’t mean you can throw me around,” he hisses and hates how the casual smirk Shane throws at him makes his heart soar. Ryan steps away from the fence when Shane motions for him too, watching the track star scramble over the fence and land with catlike grace on the other side, looking infuriatingly unfazed.

“Show off,” Ryan mumbles and starts down the decrepit cobblestone driveway, pulling out his camcorder to document what he’s doing. He starts off the recording by recounting how they manage to get over the fence, explaining how they couldn’t find another way onto the mansion grounds so they had to resort to using some athletic skill to--

“I literally picked you up and threw you over,” Shane interrupts, poking his head in the background. 

“Will you stop that?” Ryan asks, shooing him away with his arm. Shane ducks and weaves before wiggling his fingers at the camera in a hello. Ryan rolls his eyes before signing off the recording, saying he’ll document more once they reach the mansion.

“So lemme get this straight, you still don’t think you’re  _ vlogging _ ,” Shane says, kicking a stray rock off the path. Ryan gives him another look.

“No, that’s what people on YouTube do. I’m just  _ documenting _ another paranormal investigation. I’m not pranking whoever I’m dating or pretending people care about what I think about on the internet,” Ryan corrects, adjusting the straps of his backpack. Shane offers an agreeing hum before their conversation cools to a comfortable silence. Ryan looks around the unmaintained lawn, with the trees growing around the perimeter of the fence and tall grass infested with weeds, and figures if they weren’t on an investigation, this would be a pretty nice walk. Maybe he should go on a walk with Shane after all this and just talk. 

“Ryan, I gotta tell you something,” Shane says quietly and Ryan flicks his eyes at him to show he’s got his attention.

“I… Why do you keep going on these investigations with me even though you know I don’t believe in ghosts? Like, as funny as it is seeing you scream at any noise the house makes, it’s gotta be boring to have someone just tell you it’s the wind or the house settling.”

Ryan readjusts his hold on his backpack straps and purses his lips. He’s been asking himself the same question since their last investigation, where they went home empty handed but Ryan’s heart didn’t feel defeated. In fact, it felt great. Shane had made the both of them laugh so hard they wound up crying in the house foyer. Everything had felt a million times less scary last time and Ryan himself knew the location couldn’t have been too haunted, his hairs weren’t standing on end. 

Still, he had been hopeful and having an entire night of no activity would usually leave him morose. In the beginning, when Shane had asked to join the Paranormal Club, Ryan had thought he’d come to mock them and poke any holes he could find in their evidence. Shane had poked some holes, yeah, but it was on all the flimsy evidence. Otherwise, he’s been patient and admits when he doesn’t have the scientific answer to some of the phenomena the club presented. 

“I dunno,” Ryan settles for, but when Shane doesn’t seem too happy with the answer, he quickly adds, “I just think you… keep me calm when I’m really scared, y’know? Like, if I had to do this with anyone else, they’d probably scream with me or try to split up and we’d end up in some straight to DVD horror B movie.” He shrugs to punctuate that that’s all Ryan can say and Shane seems placated by it, turning away for a second. Ryan tries to peek at what Shane is staring at but can’t find anything.

“What?” he asks and Shane turns back to him, obviously smothering a grin. 

“I-It’s nothing, it’s just… That was pretty cute coming from you,” Shane explains and Ryan retaliates by shining his flashlight in his face, relishing the surprised yelp and leaving Shane to rub his eyes in favor of approaching the grand doors to the Vanderbilt estate. Shane catches up with him and stares at the doors with him.

“Well damn, if we can’t find any ghosts tonight, at least we found a house with style,” he quips and Ryan laughs, shining his light on the intricate details of the doors and archway. Shane’s right, just the front door gave off the old money vibe. It would be a dream to live in something as expensive as the mansion.

“Yeah, right? I’m tempted to just spend the night here to live that luxury life,” Ryan says before squatting so he’s eye level with the door knob. It doesn’t look too complicated a lock, but again they don’t want to be caught breaking and entering so they might have to scale to the second floor to test out any windows to see if they’re open. Worse comes to worse, Ryan did bring that lockpick kit his aunt had bought him for Christmas so they could always jimmy the handle and--

Shane reaches over and turns the weathered gold knob, pushing the door open. Ryan is greeted by the sight of a dusty and eerie foyer, a dull crystal chandelier hanging overhead. He quickly stands from his squat and licks his lips, his nerves finally catching up to him. The beams from their flashlights dance over cobwebs and dust particles that likely haven’t moved for months until Shane threw open the door. Ryan drags his light up the grand staircase and finds a chill running over his spine as he meets eyes with each painted portrait lining the walls where the stairway splits into two directions. Their eyes bore right through him and into his soul, and suddenly Ryan feels too aware that people like him weren’t entirely welcomed into the mansion.

A sudden punctuated thud shakes Ryan from his mindspace and he glances over at Shane, who’s pointedly stuck his foot into the mansion. The worried look in Shane’s eyes manages to steady Ryan’s screaming nerves and he quickly clears his throat, following after Shane and stepping into the foyer, albeit a little quieter. 

“You okay there?” Shane asks, much softer than his usually boisterous personality. Ryan nods, trying to breathe and ignore how chilly it is inside the mansion compared to the outside. It would suggest that paranormal activity would be active in this house and Ryan doesn’t know whether to scream in excitement or agony at the idea of being on a ghost’s stomping grounds. Either way, they have to investigate the mansion, and Ryan summons every ounce of courage within himself to lead them past the foyer. 

Shane is oddly silent behind Ryan as they veer off into the home, just occasionally swinging his flashlight beam around and making a comment about how old a man looked in his painted portrait. Ryan isn’t sure what he prefers, the Shane who makes crude remarks about the infrastructure of a house or the Shane that is actually quiet and lets Ryan do his documentations in peace. 

After walking up to the second floor, Ryan is sure he misses the Shane who uses his big mouth because that would have masked the sounds of each creaky step seemingly echoing throughout the house. Still, Ryan makes no comment about Shane’s behavior and only hopes he’ll find his ghost hating groove soon. 

“Little uh… Little chilly in here, huh?” Ryan says as they meander down a long corridor. It sounds horribly obvious that Ryan is trying to reach out to Shane but he’s drawing a blank on how to get his skeptic friend back to normal. Wait, what if Shane’s acting differently because he’s been possessed by something from the mansion? What if he’s actually trapped inside his body and trying to scream at Ryan to run? What if Ryan’s stuck in a horror B movie and he’ll have to try and kill his friend and--

“Yeah, but not as cold as Ms. McLaughlin’s heart for giving me a fail on that chem test,” Shane fires back and Ryan manages a relieved laugh, nudging Shane’s arm. He laughs even harder when Shane nudges him back and they get into a battle of shoulders checks, which somehow forces Ryan to stumble into another room, the door almost swinging open for him as he trips over his own feet and winds up smacking flat on his ass. 

“Oh, Jesus. Ryan, are you okay?” Shane worriedly asks, rushing after him into the room, hands already outstretched to help him up. Ryan gladly takes the hands and dusts himself off, looking around the dark room, shining his flashlight at all the corners. 

Tall bookcases line two of the walls, leaving the wall closest to the door empty and the one opposite of that blank as well. A well-used writing desk sits next to the door, dusty bulbless lamp standing next to it. Ryan feels something tug at the back of his brain as he continues processing the room, something important…

“Ryan, lookit this!” Shane calls, now on the other side of the room. Ryan swings his light at him and watches as Shane slowly raises a large rectangular panel and reveals an uncomfortably small elevator, or a--

“Dumbwaiter. It’s a dumbwaiter,” Ryan whispers under his breath as he manages his way over to Shane, sticking closer to his friend’s side as his brain continues to dig at whatever is nagging his mind. 

“Well, it’s decently sized for a dumbwaiter. I bet you could fit in this, with how tiny you are,” Shane says and nudges at Ryan again, to which Ryan just gives him a look before breaking into a smile and nudging him back. They continue their little nudge battle before it suddenly dawns upon Ryan, his face going ghostly pale. 

“Should be decently sized if it’s meant for something bigger than food,” Ryan says and Shane gives him a look, staring at the dumbwaiter before back at Ryan, waiting for him to continue. The sophomore only swings his flashlight around the room, eyes finally seeing the study and, with a sharper focus, realizing that some of the lower shelves of the bookcases didn’t seem to be attached to the entire units. 

Ryan’s legs shake as he makes his way over to one and feels underneath a shelf, finding a handle and, with a dreading heart, slowly pulls. The shelf moves with screams of protest, having not been used for some decades. Ryan ignores how the sounds make his heart shake and continues to pull, revealing a long steel table, none too different from an operating table. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Shane offers, peeking over Ryan’s shoulder and at the table. There are some suspiciously colored stains on the table and Ryan has to turn away as his mind relentlessly recalls facts about servants going into the study at the call of their master and never leaving. Or how the mansion had been vacated because the youngest twins, barely five, had somehow vanished from the property, their bodies never found. 

“I-I… This is where he must’ve… killed people, I guess,” Ryan manages out and looks up at Shane, who glances down at him before back at the table.

“Well…” Shane begins but doesn’t finish, preferring to let the sentence die in the air. Ryan turns back to the table before swinging his backpack around his side, unzipping a pocket and pulling out a device that makes Shane groan. 

“Not the spirit box, Ryan. That thing doesn’t work, and it sounds like the stupid ‘white noise’ machine my mom uses to go to sleep and keeps the rest of the house awake,” he begs, and Ryan catches him sigh and throws his lanky arms into the air as he fiddles to turn the device on. He’s standing in a room with the worst energy in the entire house, of course he has to turn on the box. If there’s anyone left here,  _ trapped _ in the study, then he has to at least attempt to help them. 

“Here,” Ryan says and passes the camera to Shane, who takes it while grumbling under his breath, turning it on and pointing it at Ryan. He nods when Ryan looks at him for confirmation, and Ryan secretly wishes he didn’t but steels his heart. Shane’s here, and if he can manage to prove that spirits exist, then it’ll all be worth it.

_ It’ll all be worth it _ , Ryan chants to himself before turning on the box, filling what feels like the entire mansion with static noise. It picks up a few garbled chunks of radio before settling into the jumbled white noise. Ryan swallows and looks uncertainly at nothing in particular.

“Hello? Is there anybody with us? I’m Ryan, that’s Shane.” Ryan gestures at Shane, who wiggles his fingers. “We’re uh… We’re here to help you if you’re… stuck here,” Ryan trails off, unsure of what else to say. His fingers are slick from holding the spirit box with a vicelike grip and there’s an eternal silence before a word punctuates through the noise.

“H’llo…. Ry… Shin…”

“Hoooly shit!” Ryan yelps, wanting nothing more than to drop the box but his grip remained steadfast. Still... “Holy shit! They said our names! Someone said our names! Hello? That’s our names!”

“Sounded like they called me a shin,” Shane mumbles behind the camera and Ryan ignores him, the skeptic talk getting swept away by the tidal wave of awe and fear rolling through him. A spirit had spoken to them! Someone had attempted to communicate!

“N’d… help…” 

“O-Oh, okay. H-How do you need help?” Ryan asks, staring at the box as if it were a sentient creature. It could very well be at this point, whoever is speaking to them is obviously intelligent enough to return conversation. Holy shit, Ryan is still reeling from getting a legitimate response, and on camera too. 

“Help… B’d… man come… -ing. Hide.” 

The hide rang clear as day and Ryan feels his blood, still pounding through his veins, run abnormally cold. He looks at Shane with the fear of God in his eyes and they stare at one another for a hot second before Ryan bursts into movement. He shuts off the spirit box and swears he can hear footsteps echoing down the corridor. Fuck, they didn’t even close the door.

“Hold on there, little guy. Hold… Ryan, you’re seriously not doing what a ghost tells you ri--”

There’s a rather obvious thud down the hall and that shuts Shane up. Thank God, because Ryan didn’t know how he would’ve convinced Shane to do anything. Now, his friend is scrambling to throw the camera into his bag and trying to find a place to hide. Ryan’s eyes jump from surface to surface as he too struggles to find somewhere. 

Underneath the desk is too short and narrow, Shane wouldn’t be able to dream of fitting. The steel tables have only millimeters of space between the top of the table and the bottom of the bookshelf, there’s no place except for--

“Get in the dumbwaiter,” Ryan hisses and pushes Shane towards it. It would be uncomfortably close for the both of them, but it’s the best place to hide inside of the study, so they’ll both just have to deal with it until whatever threat looming on them passes. Shane makes a noise of protest but stumbles back into the dumbwaiter, tucking his gangly legs inside. Ryan manages to sneak his legs on each side of Shane’s waist and he’s hunched over so Shane’s face is level with his chest. He pulls the panel down and holds his breath, sinking both of them in a darkness broken only by the thinnest sliver of faint moonlight. Both of their flashlights are off and Ryan can hear Shane breathing heavily, shushing his friend and putting a finger on his lips.

Each thud sounds like a rolling wave of thunder, growing closer and closer, Ryan’s heart beat faster and faster with ever step he hears. It feels like an eon until the steps start to fade away, as if they were continuing down the hall and finally leaving them alone. Ryan lets out a happy sigh of relief and slumps, forgetting he and Shane were on top of each other and nearly collapsing on top of his friend.

“Oh, sorry,” Ryan whispers and tries to shift, only succeeding in awkwardly shuffling their legs and hips together. Shane doesn’t say a word, just remaining stock still underneath him. Ryan reaches for the panel to open up the dumbwaiter, more than happy to gets some fresh air, when his fingers find nothing. He tries again, reaching for the little hole that could lift the wooden panel, trying to sink his finger into it but still finding nothing.

“What the fuck?” Ryan asks and turns on his flashlight, blinding the both of them and apologizing when he hears Shane wince and turn away. There’s no hole. No panel. Nothing.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?” Ryan asks, starting to freak out himself. He fumbles against the panel one more time, only to find no seam that would let him think they’re in a dumbwaiter. It’s like there’s just wall now.

“Oh my God we’re stuck,” Ryan gasps out and suddenly, a hand grabs his wrist and Ryan flinches, looking down to meet Shane’s wide scared eyes. The hand holding his wrist is trembling and Shane licks his lips before opening them.

“We’re what?” he asks, voice far from the bravado he exerted before. Ryan looks down at Shane with his own scared eyes before back at the blank wall.

“I think we’re stuck,” he whispers and Shane lets out a pained noise, hand tightening around Ryan’s wrist. Ryan looks back down at his friend and sees the noticeable fear singing in his eyes, his hand trembling even now. Shane tries to shift once and finds himself too gangly to do much more than bang his head against the side of the dumbwaiter. 

“H-Hey, it’s alright big guy,” Ryan starts, slowly attempting to unravel his hand from Shane’s grip, only to find it ironclad. Alright, plan B then. Ryan brings their now conjoined arms so they rested on Shane’s stomach and draws circles on the back of Shane’s hand, struggling for something to say. Shane has his eyes closed and breathing irregularly, body occasionally twitching as he obviously works to calm himself down. 

“Hey, Shane?” Ryan asks and he only gets a soft and impatient “hm?” in return. Ryan continues to thumb Shane’s hand before reaching forward and resting his palm on Shane’s shoulder. That makes Shane open his eyes and look right into Ryan’s, where Ryan can see his attempts to calm down are failing.

“It’s okay, big guy. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get through this together,” he promises, with a put-together feeling he doesn’t have. Ryan continues staring at Shane until his friend nods weakly, his grip loosening just the slightest. They stay staring for a second longer before the dumbwaiter lurches down, to which Shane lets out a shout of fear and drags Ryan towards him, hugging him all too tightly as Ryan himself tries to breathe. 

It’s not a sudden drop by any means, but the dumbwaiter is definitely moving. Ryan thought the electricity had gone out in the home, but apparently not. Maybe it’s on for tours but it’s the off season… 

Ryan’s mind continues to race through explanations, something he’s picked up since working with Shane, when he realizes his friend is shaking harder than a leaf in the wind. Shane’s arms are pinning him against his chest, and Ryan feels like the stuffed animal a child would clutch if they were scared. Any attempts to talk to Shane are fruitless and Ryan struggles to find a way to calm his friend down. Seeing Shane so… afraid feels awful, like a gross mold growing in his stomach that just wants to infest him until Shane’s better.

Ryan wiggles one of his arms out and reaches up, gently stroking Shane’s hair back from his forehead. He keeps at it until Shane has stopped visibly shaking, his eyes slowly opening and seeing Ryan once again. Ryan only offers a faint smile and Shane closes his eyes again, this time breathing a sigh of relief through his nose. 

“Hey Shane,” Ryan whispers. “I’m here for you man. Nothing’s gonna stop me from being here for you. You’re good, just stay with me.” His voice is as steady as a rock and as soothing as the ocean water on a hot summer day. Ryan’s surprised with himself, feeling much calmer than the situation should allow him. His fingers just continue threading through Shane’s hair and soon enough, Shane reopens his eyes and languidly blinks at him.

“...I was locked in my closet when I was a kid,” he whispers and Ryan’s heart aches for how soft and fragile his tone is. He attempts to sit up just a bit, where he’s resting his arms across Shane’s chest so they both can breathe a bit better. Shane allows it, his arms no longer a vice holding Ryan flush against him. 

“My brother locked me in there, thinking it was funny but then forgot about going to his sports practice. Mom and Dad were at work, and I was left alone for hours. Hours, Ryan. I tried screaming until my voice was hoarse, I tried kicking down the door, I tried crying… Nothing worked. And I was a kid so everything in there was out to get me. My toys weren’t my friend anymore, my clothes just felt like someone trying to get me.” Shane closes his eyes and breathes in a shuddering breath. Ryan is hooked with every word, understanding finally blooming in his mind. God, what a shitty older brother, no wonder Shane had freaked out.

“My parents found me though, and grounded the fuck out my brother,” Shane says, obviously attempted to joke. Ryan grins back at him and laughs softly. They stare at each other for a second longer before Shane swallows and looks away.

“Ryan, I gotta tell you something,” Shane mumbles and Ryan’s struck with deja vu. Shane’s nervous energy swells in the dumbwaiter, nearly suffocating Ryan but he instinctually takes Shane’s hand and thumbs the back of it, waiting for him to continue. 

“I… The entire reason I joined the ghost hunting club was so I could make fun of you guys, a-at first! At first. I thought it was funny people still believed in ghosts but then we started going on our investigations and… Honestly, I only wanted to stay for like a week at most, but then you started bringing me to places. And we just… I realized that…” Shane swallows thickly and finally manages to drag his eyes to meet Ryan’s. 

“I realized that I really like you. Like,  _ like _ like you.”

The dumbwaiter comes to a slow and gentle halt and Ryan’s heart does the same, freezing midbeat. His mind stops racing at a million miles per hour and suddenly everything around them is silent. Nothing to disturb them. Nothing to scare them. Just the two of them, stuck in a dumbwaiter, which isn’t the best time to confess to someone, but Shane was never the “best time” kind of guy to Ryan.

“I like you, Ryan Bergara. I knew that the second you screamed at a mouse running across the floor the first time we went ghost hunting,” Shane repeats, breaking the silence. The nervous energy is back and Ryan only sinks further down until he’s centimeters away from Shane’s face, which makes him finally shut up. 

“Cool,” Ryan says and presses their lips together. 

Shane’s lips are the slightest bit chapped but they feel soft against Ryan’s. Shane attempts to kiss back and Ryan smiles against the slightly awkward movements, guiding Shane into a real kiss, coaxing him into slow slides of their lips and the slightest teasing of tongue. Those arms wrap back around Ryan’s waist, holding him fast once again but for a completely different reason. 

For a second they completely forget they’re stuck inside a dumbwaiter, happy to entertain and distract each other with kissing. Shane finds his own rhythm, much to Ryan’s joy and surprise, because his friend happens to be quite the kisser when he’s confident. He lets out a surprised noise when Shane starts to sit up, which is immediately followed by Shane knocking his head against the side of the box. They break apart as Shane winces and Ryan knocks his own head against the roof.

“Fuck this, let’s get out of here,” Ryan says and Shane nods in agreement. Ryan shines a light on the panel and finds the hole where it should be, lifting the panel up. They’re back on the first floor, the dumbwaiter leading to the kitchen. Ryan squeezes himself out and lets out a blessed sigh, his legs thankful for the stretch. Shane unfolds from the dumbwaiter behind him, making a noise as he cracks and pops things back into place.

“Fuck this place,” Shane says under his breath and Ryan nods in agreement, happy to make for the kitchen exit. They make it to the hallway before they’re caught by a beam of light.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?!” someone shouts behind the beam and Ryan freezes in place, suddenly unable to execute the exit plan he’d so carefully crafted. It’s only when Shane grabs his wrist and tugs does Ryan get the message.

“Run!” he shouts and they bolt through the rest of the house, across the large entryway, leaving the dusty portraits in their wake, Ryan throwing a middle finger at them as they burst through the grand doors. Fuck the Vanderbilt Mansion and most importantly, fuck that dumbwaiter. Fuck ghosts, fuck sneaking into place. 

The mansion disappears as Ryan and Shane round corners and take shortcuts into streets they don’t quite know, but both sport large grins on their face. Somehow, they make it to the street corner by Ryan’s house before they stop, winded and wheezing against the stop sign there. Shane is clutching the pole above Ryan’s head and they both can’t stop laughing at the stupid shit they got caught doing. It’s like something out of a campy high school coming of age movie and Ryan can’t help but start composing a script for it all.

“Well, guess we can never go back there again,” Shane manages through his laughs and Ryan nods along, looking up at his friend. 

Shane grins back at him, all charm and suave again. Ryan likes that part of him, as well as the scared Shane who clutched him like a lifeline, and the Shane who knows what to do and when to do it. Ryan really likes all parts of Shane. 

“I like you too,” Ryan says and that shuts Shane’s laughter up, the man standing up straight like he’d been struck by lightning. Shane looks down at Ryan with stars in his eyes and Ryan grins back up at him.

“Cool,” Shane replies and leans down, Ryan catching his lips once again. 

He can feel Shane’s smile against his lips, and he’s sure Shane can feel his smile too. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Thanks for giving me such great prompts, Ella! You the real homie <3
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, visit the shyanlibrary on tumblr for more just like it.


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